Area Housing Boom Dwindles Florida's Oldest Industry

Thursday

Oct 9, 2003 at 12:01 AM

By MIKE GROGANThe Reporter

FOUR CORNERS -- Drive just about any road through the rural areas of Four Corners, and it's likely you'll see cattle grazing on the open areas of land that aren't taken up with citrus groves or haven't fallen prey to the developer's bulldozer.

Like citrus, cattle ranching is a traditional industry for Central Florida, predating air conditioning, snowbirds, theme parks and manufactured homes -- not by years, but by centuries.

According to the Florida Cattlemens Association Web site -- www.floridacattlemen.org -- Spanish explorer Ponce de Leon, who discovered and named Florida in 1613, brought cattle with him on his second voyage in 1624, introducing the animals to this newly discovered land. By 1700 dozens of ranches existed in the Panhandle and along the St. Johns River.

That makes Florida the oldest cattle-raising state in the country. And while it may seem odd to think of cowboys wearing conquistador helmets and body armor rather than 10-gallon hats and chaps, the fact is the Spanish heritage that is at the heart of Florida's history accounts for the beginnings of one of America's most storied agricultural industries.

"It's still a very important industry here," said John Boston of Groveland, who has been raising cattle in the Four Corners area since 1992. "It has diminished greatly, though, with houses replacing pasture land the same way they have replaced citrus groves." Boston has a herd of about 35 cattle he raises on 158 acres of leased pasture. Of those, 15 head are non-registered cattle -- that is, the so-called "cracker" cattle that have been a part of the state's ranching landscape for generations. The rest of Boston's herd are Angus and Brangus, the latter being a cross between Angus and Brahmas.

He is what is called a cow-calf operator, meaning Boston maintains the breeding members of the herd and sells off the calves once they've put on about 500 pounds, which takes from six to seven months.

"They go to feed lots out West," he said. "The feed lots are in Texas, Oklahoma, Nebraska -several states out West."

In the feed lots, the calves are fattened up until they reach the 1,000- to 1,100-pound range, and then are processed as beef. The only feed lot still in operation in Florida is in Sumter County, so most cattle ready for the beef market have to be sent west for processing.

According to Bill Price, University of Florida extension agent in Lake County, nearly 90,000 acres in the county are used as pasture for grazing cattle, most of it in the southern end of the county. Of that, some 30,000 acres is what is called improved pasture -- that is, cultivated with grasses that are grown specifically for cattle grazing. Another 56,000 acres is considered unimproved pasture, which is land that is used for grazing, but the fodder is natural.

"Most of the cattle ranches in Lake County are what we call ranchettes," Price said. "They have less than 100 head of cattle. And most of those have less than 50 head. We have fewer than 10 ranches that have more than 500 head of cattle."

Often times, he noted, property owners with a few acres will put cattle on them to get special agricultural tax exemptions. And many citrus farmers made the switch to cattle after the freezes of the 1980s chased them out of the fruit business.

"You don't have to worry about pasture land freezing," Price said.

Cattle ranching is a $6.5 million-a-year industry in Lake County, which ranks 18th in the state in the total number of cattle and calves. Of the other Four Corners counties, Osceola ranks third in the state, Polk ranks fourth and Orange is down the list at 33rd.

Yet ranchers often cross county lines to graze their cattle. Price pointed out that pasture -- like farmland, used for growing food crops -- is more productive when it is rotated and given a chance to rest periodically. Ranchers move their herds from pasture to pasture.

Development in the Four Corners has had an impact on cattle ranching in this region, just as it has on other agricultural enterprises. Where groves, farm fields and grazing lands once stood, housing developments, strip malls and paved streets are taking over. Price said it's purely a matter of economics.

"It is very difficult for someone to stay in agriculture when a developer drives up to your ranch or farm and offers you $25,000 an acre," he said. "You certainly can't earn that much off of pasture land."

For many of those who stay in cattle ranching -- as in other segments of the agricultural industry -- the draw is not so much the figures on a ledger sheet, but the desire to maintain a way of life.

"To me, it's the best life there is," said Donald Bronson, who raises about 500 head on some 5,000 acres, primarily in Polk County. "I like to live close to the soil."

Bronson is a second-generation rancher, having grown up on the family ranch his parents started in the 1940s. At 68, he has no interest in changing lifestyles.

"When I was born, my dad told my mom, `I'll mark him a calf,' " Bronson said. "I had a calf from the day I was born."

His ranch is along County Road 33 north of Polk City in what Bronson calls "the heart of the Green Swamp," but he also grazes his cattle on land he owns in Lake County.

"I used to have 1,000 head," he said. "But I lost half of everything in a divorce back in 1995. I'm just now starting to get back."

Bronson ships about 400 calves to the feed lots each year and, like in all agricultural enterprises, his annual profits -- if there are any -- depend on the current market price for the commodity he is selling.

"Beef prices are pretty good right now," he said. "That hasn't always been the case lately. Even so, it's hard to keep up with having to pay $1.50 for a gallon of gas."

There are some major differences between cattle ranching in Florida and the way it is done in the western states. The biggest is that the lush landscape here means that an acre can support more cows than it can in Texas or Oklahoma, which have less-fertile lands.

The opposite side of that coin, though, is that the land is more expensive and more attractive to developers, so the economic pressures for selling out and seeing the land become housing areas is great.

But ranchers like Bronson stubbornly hold onto their property and their rural lifestyle, toiling in an industry that dates back to the very beginnings of European influence on the continent.

"I've been a cattle rancher all my life," he said. "I was born a cattle rancher and I expect I'll die one."

Mike Grogan can be reached at Mike.Grogan@theledger.com or at 863-421-5811.